Tuesday, June 5

Thinking of Dad this Father's Day (Plus, a Give-Away)

As I was thinking of what to write about for a Father's Day post, I started to recall the times I talked about my dad on this blog. Turns out, it's a lot of times. So, rather than create a new story, I'm going to share some of the spark some good memories of you and your and dad. And, to dads everywhere, thanks, and Happy Father's Day.

There's a give-away too!

In the comment section below, please share a fond memory of your dad. It can be sentimental, funny, quirky, food-related, sports-related, whatever. It's completely up to you! I'll choose 5 winners and mail them a signed copy of my book, Recipes Every Man Should Know.

Deadline for entry is the end of the day, Sunday, June 10th so I can mail you the books in time for Father's Day on June 17.

Tweet about the contest, mentioning @Susan_Russo, and I'll count that as another entry. Good luck!

One of my favorite memories of my dad is that when I was a little girl and would have a bad dream, I could call out to him, and he would stumble into my room in the dark, pick me up and carry me downstairs to the living room. He'd sit down in this ugly green, squeaky rocker we had and rock me. Never said a word. Just rocked a good long while. It always made me feel safe. :)

One of the fondest memories of my dad is when he walked me down the aisle. I was young, very pregnant and everyone was pretty nervous wondering how this marriage was going to work. My dad, sensing the tension, sang to me as he walked me towards the altar (he sang to me often as a child). What he sang might have offended some, but to me, made me smile and face what was ahead - he sang "Here comes the bride, short, fat and wide". I was short, obviously pregnant and a bit wide. It was so funny and also showed me that even though the day was serious, some laughter helped to set me at ease.

My dad used to choose 1 of us yo go to early mass with him on Sundays. As a reward for getting up early we got to buy a small chocolate milk for the ride home. It was such a special treat and today when I drink it I remember our rides.

My dad, God love him, was a master oyster shucker, not in any certified capacity but simply to put food on the table when money was scarce. He'd buy (or trade for) a sack, and I can remember chilly November late afternoons his rallying us three kids to watch while he shucked enough for my mother to make oyster dressing for the Thanksgiving turkey. Only a couple of rules prevailed: 1) don't tear up the oysters, and 2) pop every 6th one into his mouth, raw. I think he loved to hear us squeal "eeeewwwww." But gradually he teased us into trying oysters that way, and I still love them...raw, salty, with a couple of drops of Tabasco. I never learned to open the shells, but I still eat them raw and think of him with every mouthful.

I have so many great memories of my Da (who just celebrated his 80th bday last month). Best memory from my childhood: putting a large blanket on the floor, I would get in the middle, he would take the 4 corners & gather them in the middle & swing me around. I can't believe he didn't fall over! And then he'd carry me up the stairs to bed "fireman-style" (he was a firefighter in Cleveland before I was born). Awesome memories!!

My dad, on the 4th of july, my birthday being on the 5th, always cook a boston butt on the grill.Being an executive, he always wore a suit and tie,he made an exception,and always wore a pale green bathing suit with white stripes on either side, with the price tag hanging out,(for years and years),I asked him why he kept the price tag still attached, with a slight smile,(grin), He replied,"someone may want to buy it". END OF STORY.ANOTHER TIME HE JUMPED IN OUR IN-GROUND POOL,WEARING HIS SUIT AND TIE,etc...............

When I was younger, my dad loved to garden. My favorite picture of him was one of him standing in front of rows and rows of yellow onions that he'd just picked, wearing his favorite (yet tacky) white shorts with little airplanes on them. He looked so happy and proud. He was a great cook, too. Great roasts and italian meals. He passed away 7 years ago this past February. I miss him so much and think about him every single day.

Or if you weren't born in Mississippi, that's a bacon and tomato sandwich please. I can't think of a BLT without thinking of my dad. Actually he liked his without the lettuce - on plain white bread. He could eat them every day. My mother, Juanita, would make them every day he wanted one. I remember after our family moved to the Ozark Mountains in Arkansas, daddy still thought the homegrown tomatoes from Mississippi were the best and loved it when a visiting relative or friend brought some with them from Mississippi . Early Girl and Better Boy are a couple of names of tomatoes I seemed to recall. They weren't fancy - just flavorful goodness that the tasteless tomatoes sold in most grocery stores seem to miss. Daddy was a clerk typist in the Army Air Corps during World War II and was stationed on the Gilbert Islands in the south pacific. I'm sure that probably started my own fasination with the military and longing to see far away tropical islands (though I joined the Navy). Even as a clerk typist he stood his share of guard duty and said, "if you don't think you can dig a fox hole with just a helmet, let someone start shooting at your ass and then you will know that you can". There is something special about the men of that generation who were just happy to enjoy a simple homemade bacon tomata sandwich. I also love a good bacon tomata sandwich and miss sharing them with W.C. Brewer.

When I was young my dad didn't cook much but once a week he would make us breakfast for dinner. It was his way of trying to help and unlike other foods that he cooked, his breakfast dishes were wonderful.

Growing up, my mom did ALL of the cooking....with one exception.....My dad made a kick *ss chili !!! I use his recipe to this day !!! And I remember when he taught me how to cook it and his secret ingredients !!!

One of my favorite memories with my dad occurred when I was in grade 12. Two years before, he started taking clarinet lessons. He practiced and practiced, with the ultimate goal of playing a duet with me at my senior flute recital. He was so nervous, but got up there with me to "duet". The audience gave him a standing ovation!

My dad was a great cook.He could throw anything together and it was good.I remember the last weekend he was alive.He took us camping and made a his own deep fryer to cook 20 lbs of chicken for us and friends.Thanks!lstanziani(at)yahoo(dot)com

When I was a little girl, I loved Monday nights because that was when my dad and I would watch Little House on the Prairie together. (I'm really showing my age here!) It was such a wholesome show, and my dad wouldn't miss it for anything. To this day, when I visit dad who is now is a retirement home, we always flip through the channels to try find Little House reruns. It still makes us both happy and often teary eyed!

My Dad raised me as a single parent and he always cooked a great home cooked meal every night. One of my favorites was his Chicken Noodle Soup. After I got married, I asked him to come and show me exactly how he made it. I bought all of the ingredients he told me and slowly and patiently showed me every step, carefully explaining as he went along. When it was finally done, my new home smelled exactly like I remembered as a young girl. Now it was time to pour the perfectly cooked chicken and delicious broth through a strainer so that we could return the broth to the pot. He put the strainer in the sink and proceeded to pour all that glorious golden broth right down the drain. He turned to me and said, "Now, that is one thing you do NOT want to do". We were able to save a few cups of the broth, but had a really good laugh about it.

Thank you to all of you who shared your sweet, funny, heart-warming stories. I couldn't pick favorites since I loved so many of them, so I randomly chose 5 winners. If you're one of them, then please email me ASAP with your full name and mailing address!

Father's Day is especially sentimental for me because I lost my Dad five years ago. He died of a heart attack when I was 19 and studying abroad. It's still rather tough to come to terms with, and I write about him a lot on my blog.

I will always think of these two things about my Dad and laugh: he cried at the end of Disney movies. Little 7 year old me refused to go to movies with him because I was utterly embarrassed by this. Even ones with happy endings. Today, I think about it and smile, because he was such a big, sentimental teddy bear with such a big heart.

He could. not. cook. He could stick to a recipe just fine, but when he went off on his own it was just terrible. He'd make substitutions or add "secret ingredients" like American Cheese on a frozen microwave pizza, or granny smith chunks in beef stew ("Dad these potatoes are rotten!" "Those aren't potatoes! Those are APPLES"), or making milk "stretch" by adding water and sugar. What he could cook though, was fish. Fish night was always a safe night. Grilled salmon with creamy dill sauce was always a win.

I miss him every day, but I find a tiny bit of comfort in the fact that I had a wonderful Dad for 19 years of my life. Some people aren't even that lucky.